


A New Beginning

by RedHeadedWoman



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Big Brother Dick, Brotherly Love, Friendship/Love, Gen, Male Friendship, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadedWoman/pseuds/RedHeadedWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Drake has been Red Robin a long time. Now, things are changing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for this week: A story entitled "A New Beginning"

Tim dropped his bag to the floor and looked around the room. It was sparse and painted a light blue. It was nice. It would probably look better with furniture, some art. Tim sighed as he toed off his shoes, leaving them against the wall. He’d deal with it later.

He walked through the house, glancing in each room as he passed. A living room with nice bay windows, a simple, modern kitchen. Two bedrooms upstairs plus a study. One and a half bathrooms. Two car garage, fair sized yard. It was nice enough house, if a little small, but it would do for him.

Tim dropped onto the window seat in the study and looked out over his yard and into the neighbour’s. There were two young girls playing with a dog in the yard. Two women sat drinking at a table, half watching the girls. It made for a nice sight.

This small gated community was as far from Gotham as he’d be able to get, Tim thought. White picket fences, play dates with neighbours, dogs, 2.5 kids, housewives with constantly perfect hair and makeup, husbands with well paying if boring jobs. People with ordinary lives, ordinary jobs and families. People who didn’t have aliens and speedsters and Amazonian princesses as friends. It sounded kinda shit to Tim. But this was his life now.

‘Tim?’ Dick came in, dropping a bag just inside the door. He leant on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching Tim.

‘Dick.’ Tim stood, dusting his jeans off. ‘Thanks for helping me.’

‘Whatever you need, little brother.’ Dick smiled, wide and bright. Always so bright. Tim managed a small smile of his own. Nowhere near as wide or bright, but then his smile never had been. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘Dick. We’ve talked about this. A few times.’

‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’ Dick held his hands up in surrender. ‘Still. You don’t have to.’

‘I know. But I do, Dick. I have to do this.’ Dick nodded, seemingly resigned. He opened his arms for a hug and Tim gladly stepped into his embrace.

‘Love you, Timmy.’ Dick pressed a kiss to his hair.

‘Love you too, Dick.’ Tim mumbled against Dick’s shoulder. Dick squeezed him and kissed his hair again before letting him go.

‘When’s your furniture get here?’ Dick asked, walking to the middle of the room and turning in a slow circle.

‘Should be here tomorrow,’ Tim shrugged.

‘And where are you sleeping tonight?’

‘I’ll be fine, Dick. Stop worrying. Go back to Gotham.’ Tim waved a hand, grabbing the bag Dick had dropped.

‘I wish you were coming with me.’

‘Dick, I can’t.’

‘Tim,’ Dick ran his fingers through Tim’s hair.

‘Dick, please. I can’t go back to Gotham.’ Tim pulled away from him to dump the bag in his new bedroom and went back downstairs. Dick trailed along after him, looking sad. Tim was almost immune to the hangdog expression so ignored it. ‘I can’t go back to Gotham, Dick. It’s not … home anymore.’

‘That’s what you think,’ Dick argued.

‘No, that’s what I know. Gotham isn’t home to me anymore. It’s just another city.’

‘Fine. I’ll keep trying tomorrow.’

‘You won’t be here tomorrow.’

‘You’re gonna need help shifting the furniture. You’re strong but not that strong. I’ll bring help.’

‘Don’t need help.’

‘Too bad. See you tomorrow, little brother.’ Dick grabbed Tim’s face and smacked a kiss against his forehead. Tim rubbed his forehead as Dick laughed his way out of the house. Tim ignored him, yet again, in favour of locking the door. He didn’t have any advanced locks in place yet so the deadbolt would have to do for now.

As much as Tim wanted to run after Dick and beg him for help, beg him to take him home, he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back to Gotham. Tim went upstairs to his bathroom and got the hot water running. He stripped off his shirt, wincing as his new scars stretched and pulled. He shucked his pants, careful not to look at the ugly scar that cut across his right thigh. He stepped under the hot spray, relishing the harsh sting.

Gotham would be fine without him and it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t help his family and friends if they needed him. Tim would help them when he could but he would focus his energy, his time on expanding Wayne Enterprises. It was either that or go back to being Red Robin, something he didn’t feel he could be anymore. Not since his last encounter with Killer Croc.

It had started so normal. As normal as a fight with Killer Croc got anyway. It had quickly changed, spilling from the sewer and back alleys to a main street in the early evening during school holidays.

Property damage into the millions. Multiple casualties, four fatalities. Including two children.

Tim himself had been badly injured and had been in an induced coma for three days in the caves medical bay. It had been another four days before Bruce had told him the true cost of the fight. A nine year old girl, four year old boy, twenty-five year old med student, and a forty-five year old mother of three and high school science teacher. All dead because Tim couldn’t contain Killer Croc.

Tim had received the gash on his thigh, five broken ribs, punctured lung and kidney, fractured skull, bruised brain, fractured spine, broken leg and arm, bruised liver. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises.

He was still recovering, still on the mend, still hurting.

He’d stayed in Gotham for six weeks after he woke, letting himself heal, while searching for places to go. He’d found the house online and bought it outright. It was hidden away in a quiet corner of the world, with low crime rates, a good neighbourhood by all accounts. Not the kind of place he was likely to run into a crime ring. It in a small area of New York state, far from Gotham and his family.

It was a new start, a fresh chance to make a life for himself. A quiet, ordinary, utterly boring life.

Tim got out of the shower, feeling fresh and clean. He dressed in loose sweats and one of Kon’s old shirts and ordered pizza. He set himself up on the floor of his new bedroom with a pillow, sleeping bags, and his laptop with a movie.

The pizza didn’t take long to arrive but when he got back up to his room, Tim wished he’d ordered more. Kon was sitting on his pile of sleeping bags, watching the movie like he belonged there. Tim huffed, dropping down beside him.

‘Don’t eat all my pizza.’

‘No promises, Timbo.’ Kon said, knocking their shoulders together.

‘You gonna try talking me into going back?’ Tim asked once they were settled.

‘Course not. I’m not as dumb as I look.’

‘That’s saying a lot,’ Tim teased easily. Kon rolled his eyes but he was smiling. ‘Thanks, Kon.’

‘Anytime. Sides, I figure you’re getting enough of that from Dick.’

‘You heard that, huh?’

‘Yep,’ Kon said, grabbing another slice. After a few minutes of devouring both pizza and Star Wars, Kon turned to him. ‘Tim, listen. You know you shouldn't blame yourself, no-one does. I sure as fuck don’t. But what matters is that you do. You blame yourself for not being able to control a monster and that’s fine. I get that you’re having trouble dealing and I get you need time away to sort it out. Fine. Getting out of Gotham for a bit is probably a good idea. So long as you don’t shut us out.’

‘I’m not going to shut you out, Kon. Any of you. I just need time.’

‘You’re not coming back, are you?’ Kon asked. ‘To hero work?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Tin admitted, honest, rubbing his thigh. ‘I don’t think I can come back as Red Robin. But there’s much more I can do.’

‘Damn right there is,’ Kon grinned, throwing an arm around Tim. ‘You’re a scary bastard, Tim. This ain’t the end. It’s just the beginning.’

‘God, that was corny.’ Tim complained, leaning into Conner’s warmth. Kon didn’t mention it, pulling Tim closer and wrapping his arms around him. Tim dropped his head onto Kon’s shoulder and let himself bask in being this close to him.

‘I’m always corny, Tim. You should know that by now.’

‘I absolutely know how corny you are. But you do manage to surprise me sometimes.’

‘Oh, say it ain’t so. The Red Robin’s losing his touch!’ Kon cried out, pressing his cheek against Tim’s hair. Tim sighed but took the manhandling as Kon pulled them down into the pile of sleeping bags and wrapping them up.

‘Thanks, Kon.’ Tim muttered.

‘Anytime, Timmy, anytime.’

Kon was right, corny as he was. It wasn’t the end. Tim just needed some time before he started over. A new, better beginning. A chance to come to terms with what that fight had cost him. His trust in himself, in his abilities.


End file.
